The First Second Time
by BrioScotty
Summary: After her first time fails to live up to her expectations, Rachel proposes an experiment.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers: **S03E05. Though I rarely stick to canon events. I find it best to ignore pretty much everything that happens on screen.

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><p>The noise of the doorbell cuts through the eerie silence of the Fabray household startling Quinn out of her late-afternoon nap. She cracks an eye open to glance at the time before rolling off her bed and jogging down the stairs to find out who is disturbing her slumber. Peeking through the window at the side of her front door, she huffs in discontent.<p>

_Rachel._

"Great," Quinn mumbles to herself before counting to three and opening the door. "Hello, Rachel."

"Quinn," Rachel acknowledges her with a distracted nod of her head. "I was beginning to wonder if you were home."

"I was sleeping," Quinn replies unnecessarily. Rachel glances at the errant strands sticking up from the blonde's usually immaculate hairdo and the creased t-shirt and sweatpants and nods.

"So I gather," she says. "I'm sorry I interrupted."

Quinn runs a hand through her hair, hoping that she's smoothed some of it down and turns her attention to the floor when Rachel's unfaltering gaze begins to unnerve her.

"Can I come in?"

Wordlessly, Quinn steps to the side allowing Rachel to pass though she has no idea why the brunette is here, let alone why she feels the need to be _inside _the Fabray's house.

_There's a first time for everything._

Quinn closes the front door and follows after the other girl, a little surprised when the brunette turns into the kitchen. Frowning, Quinn leans against the doorframe, trying to figure out if this is some sort of weird dream as Rachel opens one cupboard, then the next, shaking her head and tutting when she fails to find whatever it is she's looking for.

"What are you looking for?" Quinn asks at last.

"I'm about to propose something and I feel that alcohol might be needed for us to get through it," Rachel says, straightening up. "If you accept, that is."

"You're looking in the wrong room for the alcohol," Quinn says, directing Rachel to the dining room where a cabinet of rums and whiskys and vodkas await. She watches Rachel select a bottle of pre-divorce whisky, unscrew the lid and take a sniff. The look of horror on Rachel's face is enough to make Quinn chuckle. "Is the alcohol really necessary?" Quinn asks.

"I had sex with Finn," Rachel blurts out.

Quinn feels her eyebrows rise and her mouth open and tries desperately to ignore the twisting sensation in her stomach where it feels like she's been punched. Suddenly, she wants to take a swig of the whisky.

"Oh," Quinn says before the mental image assails her and she has to close her eyes to try and rid herself of it. "When?"

_Stupid question._

"A few days ago."

Quinn hesitates, trying to think of anything else to say that's less stupid than her previous question.

"Were you safe?"

_You're not her mom. Jeez._

When she glances up at the brunette, Rachel is looking at her a little incredulously but nods nonetheless.

"Yes."

Rachel looks as though she's wrestling with her next words so Quinn takes the opportunity to remove the bottle of whisky from her hands and close the cabinet door again. She gestures for Rachel to go through to the adjoining lounge and watches the brunette smooth her skirt before perching on the edge of the chair her mother favours. Quinn opts for the sofa, sinking down into the cushions.

"I've got a lot of homework so if this visit has a point…" Quinn begins, not intending to sound harsh but failing miserably.

"Can I ask you something?"

"If it's sex-related, then I'm not your best option," Quinn says, holding up her hands. "I'd try Puck or Santana. Or Brittany."

"I have my reasons for picking you," Rachel says carefully.

"Picking me for what?" Quinn asks.

"I guess it's an experiment," Rachel says, looking down at her hands before launching into ramble-mode. "I thought I'd feel different. Afterwards. Different to how I felt before. I thought there'd be fireworks and I'd look into his eyes and know that this is it. This is forever." Rachel pauses. "But it wasn't even close."

Quinn looks closely at Rachel who has resorted to frowning once more, brow furrowed in deep thought.

"Forever is a long, long time, Rachel," Quinn says when she feels the silence has gone on for long enough. "You have your whole life ahead of you to find guys who make you feel fireworks."

Rachel's eyes brighten slightly when she glances over at Quinn.

"Or girls," Rachel says, causing Quinn's heart to slam against her ribcage.

"What?" Quinn says hollowly, convinced that she's misheard the brunette. "Wait… you… what?"

Rachel blushes under Quinn's incredulous expression, wishing she'd thought more about this before walking over to the Fabray's.

"I should go," Rachel says, springing up from the chair, muttering about how stupid her idea was leaving Quinn to gape at the spot she's just vacated. The brunette is halfway down the Fabray's path when Quinn catches up to her, grabbing her elbow almost painfully.

"Tell me the proposition," Quinn says quietly, relaxing her grip when Rachel grimaces.

"It was a bad idea," Rachel insists. "A very, very bad and stupid idea."

"Rachel, tell me," Quinn urges. Rachel remains mute causing Quinn to sigh and lean in close. "I'll say yes."

Sensing nothing malicious in the blonde's tone, Rachel wordlessly makes her way back into the house and waits at the foot of the staircase for Quinn.

"You haven't heard what I'm about to propose and you're already saying yes?" Rachel asks when Quinn joins her after what feels like an eternity.

"I can guess what you're about to propose and I'd be lying if I said that the thought hadn't crossed my mind," Quinn replies, watching Rachel's eyes flutter closed as she steps closer and slips her hands into the brunette's.

"Finn can never find out," Rachel murmurs. "Even if… _this_," a hand gestures between their bodies haphazardly, "changes things for me or helps me figure out whatever feelings are charging around inside of me… I don't want him to know."

"Is that why you've picked me? You think that Puck or Santana or anyone else would tell…" Quinn asks, aware that she's setting herself up for disappointment regardless of what happens.

Rachel shakes her head.

"I've noticed the way you look at me, Quinn," she says. "I know you harbour some sort of physical attraction towards me and I know that although you're sometimes hostile to me…" Quinn opens her mouth to argue but Rachel silences her with a look. "Ultimately, you'll want to help." Quinn rolls her eyes.

"By having sex with you?"

Rachel confirms this with a nod causing Quinn to smirk slightly.

"You can't be any worse than Puck," she says and starts to lead Rachel up the staircase to the second floor.

"You and Finn never…?" Quinn shakes her head. "Or Sam?"

"You will be my second, Rachel. And you don't have much to live up to."

Rachel spends the rest of the journey to Quinn's room in silence, trying to remain focused on the task at hand. Admittedly it's difficult due to the thoughts crowding her brain, all fighting for dominance. Flashes of Quinn and Puck together, her first time with Finn, how this experiment is going to change their tentative friendship, how this experience could completely alter the course of her future…

"Earth to Rachel…" Quinn is saying as she closes her bedroom door and flips the lock over. "My mom shouldn't be home until later but we probably shouldn't take any chances, right?" Rachel nods her head once in response and glances around the room before perching on the end of the bed. "You look like you're going to pass out. Take a breath."

Doing what she's told, Rachel nearly chokes when Quinn pulls her t-shirt off and tosses it to one side, leaving her with no doubt that this experiment only has one real conclusion. Quinn blushes under her gaze, looking down at her body self-consciously.

"I'm…"

"Whatever you're about to say, don't," Rachel interrupts before looking away bashfully. "You're beautiful."

Quinn allows a smile to pass her lips before she looks up again, advancing towards the bed where Rachel automatically reaches out for her, hands slipping around the Quinn's waist. The blonde feels lips press against her navel before Rachel stands up, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

"Nervous?" Quinn asks, bringing a hand up to brush the bangs out of Rachel's eyes. The brunette nods. "Me too."

"But that's normal, right? It's normal to be nervous about having sex for the first time with a girl… I mean, I was nervous with Finn but this feels like a different sort of nervous, like an excited-nervous. I don't even know where to start."

"We could start with a kiss," Quinn says, leaning forward quickly to silence Rachel's babble.

Struck by surprise, Rachel goes rigid for a few seconds, stunned by the presence of Quinn's lips against her own. When Quinn pulls back, a questioning look on her face, Rachel shakes herself out of her shock and tugs the blonde back to her, resuming the kiss.

"You're good at that," Rachel whispers, smiling as she leans in to peck Quinn's lips once more.

"You're not so bad yourself," Quinn grins in response as her hands begin to unbutton the bizarrely patterned cardigan covering up Rachel's body. "How many layers are you wearing?" Quinn arches an eyebrow as she runs her fingertips around the hem of the turtleneck beneath the cardigan.

"I'll have you know that layers are one of the best ways to keep out the cold and we're currently experiencing one of the coldest Novembers in Ohio. I can't leave myself exposed to chest infections, not with Sectionals a few weeks away," Rachel says, entirely aware that Quinn's question is rhetorical. "Four," she answers anyway with a heavy sigh.

Quinn pulls the turtleneck off, then a t-shirt bearing a photo of the most recent Broadway cast of Rent leaving Rachel in a pink tanktop.

"Are you cold now?" Quinn asks, dipping her head down slightly to place light kisses to Rachel's neck, letting her teeth drag over the sensitive flesh. She grins at Rachel's shiver.

"No," Rachel's voice is strangled. "Quite the opposite."

"Do you want to lie down?" Quinn asks, already nudging the brunette backwards a little.

Rachel is nodding as she sits down on the edge of the bed before scooting backwards until her head is resting in the spot Quinn had been sleeping in before the doorbell had rang.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks self-consciously as Quinn gazes down at her.

"Yeah," Quinn says, kneeling on the end of the bed and crawling up to Rachel, placing a series of kisses as she goes. When she raises the tanktop slightly to press her lips to Rachel's abdomen, her fingertips brush against the brunette's side causing her to squirm. "Ticklish," Quinn muses, letting her fingers stray once more.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaims, trying to arch away from the blonde's touches. Quinn quickly moves away from that area and concentrates on Rachel's neck once again, rewarded once more with shivers and an almost silent moan.

"I was trying to work out if this is a dream," Quinn is murmuring, lifting her mouth away from the already darkening flesh before descending to resume kissing and licking and biting…

"Feels real to me," Rachel says, placing her hands on Quinn's back. Cautiously, she runs one up into the short, blonde hair, threading her fingers through it. "Do you dream about having sex with me a lot?"

Quinn feels herself blush, her lack of a response providing Rachel with an answer. Bringing her hand around to cup Quinn's chin, Rachel tilts the taller girl's head up towards her. A jolt runs through her as she takes in Quinn's darkened eyes and parted lips.

"Is Dream Rachel good?"

"Dream Quinn never has any complaints," Quinn mumbles, her face a furious red now. Rachel smiles shyly and pulls Quinn down for another kiss. When Rachel tugs the blonde's bottom lip between her teeth, she's rewarded with a soft moan and feels Quinn's hips roll against hers.

"Again," Rachel groans into Quinn's mouth, moving her other hand down the taller girl's back and arching to meet Quinn as the blonde grinds down again. The result causes Rachel to grin against Quinn's lips.

"You okay?" Quinn asks between kisses.

"Yeah, just…" Rachel's hands find Quinn's waist and guide her to the left slightly, leaving one leg nestled between her own. "Trying something."

Quinn nods, pressing her thigh down against the apex of Rachel's legs, watching the brunette's face intently for her reaction. She watches as Rachel's lips part and her eyes flicker shut. With a soft sigh, Rachel's hips rock upwards intensifying the contact between her body and Quinn's.

Bringing her lips back down to Rachel's once more, Quinn continues grinding against the brunette, still unwilling to believe that this is real. Knowing that she could wake up at any moment, Quinn runs her hand down Rachel's side, ignoring the muffled protest about it tickling, and toys with the hem of her skirt which has slowly ridden up during the past few minutes.

Rachel's next thrust brings a sharp moan from her throat causing the blonde to pause and open her eyes in concern. Rachel shakes her head quickly and places a hand on top of Quinn's, pushing it around to her back.

"Take it off," Rachel says, eyes locking with Quinn's, urgency etched on her face.

"The um… the skirt or the…?" Quinn stammers over her words as Rachel arches upwards allowing her to slide the zip down.

"All of it."

_Don't wake up._

**xxxxx**

The look of disbelief on Quinn's face as she rids the brunette of the rest of her clothes convinces Rachel that the other girl still thinks that this is a dream.

"Is this how you imagined me?" Rachel asks, drawing Quinn's attention back towards her.

"Close," Quinn says, letting her eyes roam again before she lies down next to Rachel once more. "I mean, you don't have scales so I guess I was wrong about that…"

"Hey!" Rachel says indignantly, shoving Quinn's shoulder before taking the blonde's hand in her own. She places it against her abdomen and holds it there tightly. "You still look like you think this is a dream. What do I need to do to convince you otherwise?" Quinn remains silent, dropping her gaze down towards her fingers, splayed against Rachel's tan skin.

"I don't think you can," Quinn answers at last, sliding her hand higher to cup Rachel's breast. She runs the pad of her thumb over one nipple before mimicking the movement on the other. Rachel squirms slightly, arching into the touch.

"I've thought about you before," Rachel admits, a shy smile passing over her lips.

"Then why the experiment?" Quinn frowns, leaning away to grab the blanket at the end of the bed and throwing it over them both, covering them to the waist. "Girls must be a turn on for you too if you think about them…"

"Not _them_," Rachel corrects, watching for the reaction on the blonde's face.

"Just me?" Quinn asks, feeling her heart skip awkwardly.

"I blame the cheerleading skirt," Rachel says with a roll of her eyes. "Look, I like boys. I liked Puck and Jesse and I do like Finn. But I've always been appreciative of girls, I've just never really thought about acting on it. With them."

"But with me... what's different about me?" Quinn asks, unable to meet Rachel's eye as she trails her hand back up to Rachel's breasts. Rachel takes her time answering the question, allowing Quinn to duck her head down and wrap her lips around a straining nipple. Hesitantly, she sucks and it sends a pulse through Rachel's body, nestling right between the brunette's legs. "Answer the question," Quinn says, moving her mouth away before letting the tip of her tongue dance over the puckered flesh. Rachel remains relatively mute when she turns her attention to the other nipple, only moaning softly as an indication that she's enjoying what Quinn's doing. Frustrated by the silence, Quinn moves up Rachel's body and kisses her hard.

"Rachel, tell me," Quinn says, leaving the brunette breathless.

Rachel takes Quinn's hand and guides it southwards.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asks, arching an eyebrow when she feels Rachel spreading her legs.

"Showing you why you're different," Rachel replies simply before pushing Quinn's hand down between her legs and watching as Quinn's breath catches in her throat. "That's why."

"Imagination Quinn must be pretty good then," Quinn murmurs, dragging her fingers through the wetness, enjoying the look on Rachel's face as her head tips backwards against the pillows.

"She talks less," Rachel muses, earning herself a smirk.

"We don't have to talk," Quinn says, eliciting a loud moan from Rachel's lips as she circles the brunette's clit with a solitary finger.

"No," Rachel agrees. "Not if it means you're concentrating on doing that."

Quinn takes one last look down beneath the blanket, still unable to believe that it's her hand, her fingers making Rachel moan. Before guilty thoughts start to crowd her mind, she moves her body on top of Rachel's again, fingers slipping down a little from Rachel's clit to circle her entrance.

"You're sure…?" Quinn starts to say but is cut off by Rachel's lips. The kiss is so intense that Quinn momentarily forgets about the task at hand, too preoccupied with the way Rachel's lips and tongue and teeth are…

"Quinn, please," Rachel pulls her mouth away from the dazed blonde's and tries to grind her hips up off the bed.

"Are you…?" Quinn hesitates, trying to figure out why she's stalling, why she keeps feeling the need to ask for Rachel's permission.

"I'm sure," Rachel supplies, one hand slipping between their bodies to push down on the blonde's. "I want this." She arches slightly as the tips of Quinn's fingers slide inside. "God, I want this."

"If…" Quinn tries again but stops when Rachel gives her a look of disbelief. "Sorry."

"Quinn, you're overthinking this," Rachel says, trying desperately not to rock her hips against Quinn's unmoving hand. "I want this and I want you. I really, really want you. Can't you feel that?"

Unable to hold out any longer, Rachel rolls her hips off the bed and feels Quinn's fingers slide a little deeper inside. She whimpers and locks her gaze with Quinn's, watching the last trace of indecision leave the blonde's face.

Silencing as many of the thoughts running through her head as possible, Quinn thrusts deep inside Rachel, relishing the tight wetness that encompasses her fingers. She feels Rachel's hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in for another heated kiss as her instincts take over, her fingers drawing long strokes as they pull and push between the Rachel's legs.

A half-garbled sentence escapes from Rachel's lips between kisses and Quinn feels herself smiling against Rachel's lips.

"… feels amazing," Rachel exhales, finishing the sentence before her hips lurch upwards, crashing against Quinn's followed by a husky moan as Quinn's fingers curl inside her. "Again," she says, not at all ashamed by the begging tone in her voice. She cants off the bed as Quinn's fingers curl once more, mouth breaking away from the blonde's as her head tips back, burying into the pillows.

_God._

Quinn's lips part in a barely audible moan as she watches the girl beneath her quickly come undone. She's seen Rachel give performances that bring people to tears and command entire audiences with her voice but seeing her like this… arching and breathless and so completely beautiful is intoxicating. Quinn knows that there's nothing that will ever rid her memory of this image, of these moments. Even if it's only this one time.

"Where are you?" Rachel asks suddenly, bringing Quinn out of her thoughts. The brunette is staring up at her, her breathing irregular as she struggles to calm her body down, cursing Quinn's ability to make her feel like _this_ so quickly. She feels as though she could tumble over the edge at any second, that Quinn's next movement could be her downfall.

"Sorry," Quinn apologises with a kiss. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"Good," Rachel murmurs, sighing as Quinn's fingers extend inside her once more. "So good."

Quinn is all too aware of how quickly this is going to be over, Rachel is tensing around her fingers with every thrust and the rhythm between them is starting to falter as Rachel's hips pitch upwards haphazardly. Feeling Rachel's nails digging into her shoulders, Quinn shifts slightly, soaked fingers sliding out of the brunette and pressing hard against Rachel's clit.

Rachel can feel her mouth moving but can't seem to form any words and settles for moaning as Quinn brings her closer and closer…

"Quinn," she finally finds her voice, repeating the word as though her life depends on it.

… _fuck, definitely not a dream_.

Quinn feels her head hit the pillow next to Rachel and closes her eyes, still feeling Rachel's body shake beneath her.

"Wow," Rachel exhales, stroking one hand down Quinn's back, feeling the blonde's muscles twitch.

"Wow," Quinn agrees, unsure about what she should do now. She turns her head to the right and takes in Rachel's profile. The brunette's eyes are closed and a smile is playing on her lips. "What?"

"Hmm?" Rachel turns to look at Quinn, reaching up to brush the hair off Quinn's forehead.

"You're smiling," Quinn says.

"I have no reason not to smile," Rachel says, her mouth spitting into a huge grin. "You're very, very good at… this." Rachel gestures around the bed, a smile on her face. Quinn blushes as she tries to bury her head beneath the pillows. "You are… Quinn, look at me."

"No," Quinn's voice is muffled. Rachel rolls her eyes and pulls the pillows away, tossing them on the floor.

"Come here," Rachel says, pulling Quinn's head towards her. "Kiss me?"

Unable to resist, Quinn presses her lips against Rachel's softly, trying desperately to silence the rational parts of her brain that are telling her to stop. She can feel Rachel's hands start to run down her body and sighs.

"You don't have to…"

"But I want to," Rachel replies, tentatively drawing patterns across Quinn's abdomen.

Somewhere below them, the sound of a door slamming causes them both to freeze.

"Shit," Quinn mutters as Rachel's eyes go wide.

"Quinn?" Judy Fabray's voice rings through the house.

"Shit," Rachel agrees before both girls fly off the bed. "Where's my skirt?" Rachel hisses.

The footsteps on the stairs are growing louder and louder and then the door handle rattles as Judy tries the door.

"Under the bed!" Quinn whispers, gesturing wildly with one arm as she pulls her sweatpants on with the other. Rachel gathers up as much of her clothes as possible and scrambles under the bed.

"Quinn! Open the door!" Judy says, trying the door again. Quinn attempts to straighten up the blankets on her bed and makes sure there aren't any errant pieces of clothing lying around. She adjusts her t-shirt and hopes her hair isn't too wild before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

"Hey mom," Quinn says, too brightly and too cheerfully for someone who's supposedly just woken up.

"What were you doing?" Judy asks her, a perfectly tweezed eyebrow rising ever-so-slightly on her artificially smoothened forehead.

"Napping," Quinn says. "I forgot to set my alarm."

Judy tuts and glances around Quinn's room.

"How far did you run this morning?" she asks.

"A little over five miles," Quinn says, praying that her mom doesn't decide to nose around. "I have some homework to do…"

"You're hiding something from me," Judy says, folding her arms across her chest. "You know we're not supposed to have secrets anymore, Quinnie."

"I'm not hiding anything," Quinn says, knowing that her cheeks are starting to turn red.

"Hmm," Judy murmurs and shakes her head with a sigh. "I'm late for my Szechuan cooking class. I'll leave money on the counter if you want to order takeout."

"Thanks, mom," Quinn says, playing with the hem of her t-shirt nervously.

"Is it a boy?" Judy whispers far too loudly. "Please tell me you're being safe."

"It isn't a boy," Quinn reassures her mom. "I have a girl hiding under my bed."

Judy stares at her daughter, somewhat aghast before her mask slips back over her face. She laughs, a little unsure, and walks out of the room, heels clicking on the hardwood. When the front door slams, Quinn releases a soft laugh.

"What if she had checked?" Rachel asks, her voice muffled, before she reappears from beneath the bed, half-dressed. Quinn shrugs, sitting down on the end of the bed, watching Rachel pull on the rest of her clothes.

"You're going?" Quinn asks, failing to sound nonchalant.

"Your mom is quite the mood-killer," Rachel says, making a face as she buttons her cardigan. She sits down next to Quinn, lacing her fingers through the blonde's.

"So, when do I find out the results of the experiment?" Quinn asks, attempting to be blasé about the end of her afternoon with Rachel. The brunette remains silent while she tries to think of an answer that won't disappoint either girl.

"I think you already know the results," she says eventually, unable to meet Quinn's gaze.

"But you're staying with Finn?"

"I don't know," Rachel answers truthfully. "No… I don't think I can. Not now."

Quinn feels hope surge through her and tightens her grip on Rachel's hand, feeling the brunette squeeze back in return.

"You should go," Quinn says. "We have things to work out and process and…"

"Lots of things," Rachel agrees, not moving an inch from the bed. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Quinn says, feeling Rachel's hand slip from hers and missing it instantly. "Is it okay if I call you sometime?"

"I'd like that," Rachel replies, standing up from the bed and smoothing down her skirt. Quinn follows a few seconds later, reaching for Rachel's hand.

"Bye," Quinn says, pressing a soft kiss to Rachel's lips.

"Bye," Rachel smiles, almost sadly before turning and leaving the room. Quinn takes a few steps backwards and throws herself back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as she attempts to process what's just happened.

She reaches for the pillow Rachel had been lying on and pulls it close to her, hugging it to her chest. Half an hour later and no closer to processing her thoughts or feelings, Quinn tosses the pillow aside and moves over to her desk, groaning at the pile of homework that greets her.

Unable to concentrate on geometry or biology or chemistry, Quinn writes a new topic at the top of her notepad and instantly starts scribbling ideas. Neglecting everything else, she works on this new project until she's ready to crawl into bed, hiding the pieces of paper in her bedside cabinet where her mom is unlikely to find them.

As Quinn drifts into a familiar dream, the words printed at the top of the first page stand out clear in her mind:

_Operation: Date Rachel Berry_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **Lots of thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed and favourited this story so far! It means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy the rest of it!

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><p>Fresh from a solid night's sleep during which her subconscious had revelled in replaying every detail of her afternoon with Rachel, Quinn wakes up earlier than usual and heads to the running track close to the Fabray's house. Winter is firmly starting to make its presence known in Ohio and Quinn makes a mental note to wear an extra layer the following day to keep the chill out. She tightens her laces and begins to run, her feet beating against the track in time to the music blasting into her ears.<p>

Without cheerleading or any other substantial form of physical activity, it had been Judy who had suggested running track to Quinn. Something to keep 'the baby weight off'. Once the baby weight had come off, Quinn had decided to keep running, figuring an hour or so spent at the track was an hour not spent in her house.

She manages to banish the dream and any thoughts of Rachel until she's completing her second lap. Although she'd spent most of the previous evening coming up with ideas to make Rachel fall completely in love with her, Quinn's decided to wait a few days before putting her plan into action.

_Let the dust settle._

Not that she particularly wants to let anything settle. A part of her wants to march over to the Berry's house six blocks away and finish what Rachel had started the day before; to ring the doorbell until Rachel opens the door in a state of total confusion and kiss her until the brunette's knees buckle.

_Maybe tomorrow._

Quinn smiles, continuing her way around the track as the mental image of her kisses making Rachel Berry's knees go weak assaults her brain. By the end of her next lap, Quinn has to stop to actually talk herself out of going to Rachel's. She's pretty sure Rachel's fathers wouldn't be entirely pleased about someone calling this early in the morning anyway.

Stretching out her legs again, Quinn starts to run, pushing herself a little faster than before as more and more images start to drop into her mind: Rachel arching upwards, moaning Quinn's name, reversing their positions, the look on Rachel's face as she dips her mouth towards Quinn's chest…

"Shit…" Quinn mutters, stumbling slightly. She glances at her watch and decides she's had enough running for today. If she's lucky, she'll have enough time to get back in bed before heading off to school. Not that she's opposed to the shower… "Bad," Quinn exhales to herself and heads off the track, all but sprinting home.

**xxxxx**

Three days have passed by, all with minimal contact from both parties. They've shared smiles in the hallways, quiet pleasantries about the weather in the classes they have together and covert glances during Glee rehearsals, though Rachel is convinced that Quinn had been staring at her for longer than the second she had caught her for.

By day four, Rachel is ready to march up to the other girl and demand answers. When is the promised phone call going to happen? Isn't four days a little too long to be 'processing' the mind-blowing sex they'd had? And, perhaps most importantly, is it going to happen again?

Over the course of the previous three days, Rachel has also had minimal contact with Finn. Mostly because he's too busy with football and helping Burt out at the garage after school, but in all honesty, Rachel _has _needed time to try and figure out what to do next.

And to figure out a way of stopping herself from imagining ripping off Quinn's clothes whenever she's within five feet of the girl. Not that Quinn seems to be overly interested.

It's a huge surprise on the morning of day four when she spies Quinn leaning against the bank of lockers, scribbling in a notebook without a care for the students passing her by. Rachel straightens her back and squares her shoulders and tries not to melt when Quinn glances over at her and flashes a grin.

"Morning," Quinn says, closing her notepad when Rachel arrives at her locker.

"Good morning," Rachel replies.

"How are you?" Quinn asks, watching the brunette get flustered as her locker refuses to open.

"I'm fine," Rachel replies shortly. Quinn rolls her eyes at the lie.

"Really?" she asks.

"No, not really," Rachel says, finally wrenching the door open. "When is 'sometime'?"

Quinn gives her a confused look, brow furrowed as she tries to work out the question.

"You said you were going to call 'sometime'. Is that going to be any time soon or can I stop obsessively checking to see if I have any missed calls? Even a text would do at this point, Quinn."

"Oh," Quinn says, feeling a knot twist in her stomach. "I wanted to but I couldn't figure out what to say."

Rachel pulls out her Spanish books and swings her locker door shut with a bang causing other students passing by to jump in fright. Rachel turns fully to look at Quinn who is still leaning against the lockers casually.

"Have you figured it out now?" Rachel asks, spotting Finn lumbering towards them, chatting with Rory.

"Can I walk you to class?" Quinn asks, reaching for Rachel's books. Unable to resist the smile on the taller girl's face, Rachel hands them over and they start off down the corridor towards their first class of the day. "How are you getting on with the project? It's due next Friday, right?"

"I think I'm almost done," Rachel says, glancing over her shoulder to see a confused expression on Finn's face as he watches the two girls round the corner at the end of the corridor. "Spanish isn't my strongest subject though. I always get marked down on my grammar. "

"I could take a look at it before you hand it in," Quinn offers. "Maybe give you a few pointers on some of the grammar stuff."

"That would be great," Rachel says, glancing at Quinn warily, trying to figure out what her angle is. When they reach the class, Rachel expects Quinn to head to the other side of the room to her usual seat. Instead the blonde follows Rachel to the back of the room and sits down in the vacant seat next to Rachel's, handing the books back over.

"It's okay if I sit here, right?" Quinn asks, taking in the puzzled look on Rachel's face.

"It's a free country," Rachel murmurs, sitting down on her chair and looking over at Quinn. "What's your angle?"

"My angle?" Quinn asks, tapping her finger against her lips as though she has no idea what Rachel's implying. "I don't think I have an angle."

"You've ignored me for three days and now you're holding my books and walking me to class and sitting next to me…" Rachel tails off when Mr Schuester walks into the classroom. He calls for quiet and for the class to open their books at page forty-eight.

"You told me I'm hostile," Quinn whispers as she flicks through her book. "Hostile to you. And I want that to change."

"Quinn, do you have something to share with the class?" Mr Schuester gestures around the room to the rest of the students.

"No, Mr Schuester," Quinn replies, picking up her pen and starting the exercises he's assigned them for this period.

Distractedly, Rachel turns her focus to the assignment and tries to ignore Quinn. She tries desperately to ignore the way the blonde twirls her pen through her fingers as she conjugates verbs, the smile on her face when she completes an answer, the completely unsubtle way of glancing over to see how Rachel is getting on.

"Look at question three again," Quinn says quietly, extending a finger to point at the verb. "What tense is that?"

"Present?" Rachel tries.

"Try again," Quinn says. "Look at the ending."

"Imperfect," Rachel says. "So my answer should be…" She erases part of her sentence and writes in the correct answer.

"Yup," Quinn says, going back to her own work.

"Thank you."

The rest of the class passes quickly and before Rachel knows it, Quinn is closing her books and standing up from the desk.

"I'll see you in English?" the taller girl asks. Rachel can only nod in return, still unsure what to make of _this_ Quinn.

**xxxxx**

Quinn paces across her room one last time before taking a deep breath and sending the message she's been composing for the past hour. It disappears from her screen and she sits down to wait for Rachel's response.

The message that's on its way to Rachel isn't anything ground-breaking. Quinn had written a few sentences before deciding it was too much. A couple of words had seemed too few. She'd agonized over how many x's to put at the end (and settled for two).

After seven minutes (which Quinn swears felt like an hour), her phone buzzes and lights up. One word. Two x's. Quinn smiles and scrolls up on the screen before hitting the call button.

"Hello?" Rachel answers, silencing whatever music had been playing in the background.

"Hey," Quinn says, lying back on her bed.

"Hi," Rachel replies.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. Is everything okay?" Rachel asks. Quinn tries to picture her before realising that she has no idea what Rachel's room looks like.

_Probably a lot of pink and Broadway posters._

"Yeah, things are okay. Things are great," Quinn answers. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, I was supposed to be going to the movies with Finn but didn't feel up to it. I'm just listening to some music and reading."

"Sounds like a nice Friday night," Quinn says.

"What about you? No plans?" Rachel asks. Quinn imagines Rachel playing with the hem of her t-shirt, fingertips brushing against the tan skin beneath it.

"Nothing, just thinking about you," Quinn says before slapping her forehead. "I mean… not thinking about you like… _that_. Just thinking about what Rachel Berry does on a Friday night. I mean… wow, I suck at this."

When Rachel giggles, Quinn stops internally berating herself.

"I can't believe I make Quinn Fabray nervous," she says in a sing-song voice. "So, you're thinking about me, huh?"

"Yes," Quinn says, nodding although the brunette can't see her. "I've actually found it hard to stop thinking about you. Since… y'know. The experiment."

"You might have crossed my mind a couple of times," Rachel says, sounding a little bashful.

"Just a couple of times?" Quinn enquires.

"Maybe a lot," Rachel admits. "It might be closer to 'all the time'."

Quinn is a little surprised by the reaction this admission causes and she bites down on her bottom lip before she starts begging Rachel to come over.

"Subtlety is clearly not my forte," Rachel adds and Quinn can tell that she's blushing furiously.

"Are you busy tomorrow?" Quinn asks, steering the conversation away to safer ground; ground that will not cause her untold amounts of frustration.

"I've booked an hour at the dance studio on Lincoln and have no other plans at the moment," Rachel says. "What about you?"

"Lots of plans," Quinn lies as she struggles to keep the image of Rachel in skin-tight dancewear out of her mind. "Let's see, there's a _Grey's Anatomy_ marathon I could watch… or I might go to the mall. Or I might ask if I can go along to the dance studio with my friend, Rachel. Then I might ask her if she wants to go to the movies."

"You really are bad at this," Rachel laughs.

"I'm sure it's endearing to some people," Quinn sighs. "Rachel, can I come to the dance studio with you tomorrow?"

"Let me think about it," Rachel replies, humming to herself while Quinn rolls her eyes. "Won't you be slightly bored? I'm just doing some extra ballet practice."

"I'm just trying to make up for pretty much ignoring you for three days," Quinn says. "Plus, I used to do ballet. Maybe I can teach you a few moves."

Rachel scoffs and Quinn can't stop the smile spreading across her face.

"I'll pick you up?" Quinn offers.

"Fine," Rachel says. "I'll see you at ten-thirty."

"And the movies?" Quinn asks, aware that she's sounding slightly desperate but not willing to let Rachel hang up yet. "Friends go to the movies, right?" she adds when Rachel hesitates. "They're showing _The Wizard of Oz_ at the old theatre downtown."

"Let me think about it, okay?" Rachel says at last though Quinn's pretty sure that she won't pass up a chance to watch one of her favourite movies on the big screen. "I should get some sleep."

"Me too," Quinn says. "Night, Rachel."

"Sleep well, Quinn."

When the line goes dead, Quinn tosses her phone onto the bedspread and grins up at the ceiling before reaching across to her bedside cabinet and retrieving her scribbled plans. She glances over them before scoring out a couple of lines near the top and returning the pieces of paper to her drawer.

**xxxxx**

Drumming her fingers nervously on top of the breakfast bar, Rachel stares at the clock hanging to the left of the refrigerator. Her dad is flipping pancakes, glancing over at his daughter every so often.

"Are you okay?" he asks at last when the noise starts to grate on his nerves. Rachel's gaze snaps over to meet his before falling down to her hand. She ceases the steady staccato-like noise she's creating and flattens her palm against the counter top.

"I'm great," Rachel responds. "Top notch. Couldn't be better."

"You're as bad at lying as your papa is," her dad says, rolling his eyes as he stacks the pancakes onto a plate. "Now, do you want to tell me why you're drilling holes into the counter?"

"Quinn is taking me to the dance studio today," Rachel says.

"Quinn Fabray?" her dad asks, looking a little puzzled. "I didn't realise you two were friends."

"It's a fairly recent development," Rachel says quickly. "With Glee and having so many classes together this year, it seems a little silly for us not to be friends. She's going to help me with my Spanish project." Rachel pauses before rushing into her next sentence. "And we're going to the movies this afternoon but I think it's a little soon for that…"

Michael stops scraping the batter from the pan to look at his daughter curiously. Her gaze is on her hand which is still flattened against the counter as she continues to ramble on about her new friendship with Quinn.

"… but she says she used to do ballet, so having her there won't be too much of a distraction hopefully." Rachel finally looks up when her papa strolls into the room, immediately making a beeline for the pancakes.

"Yum," he pronounces after the first bite before glancing between his husband and his daughter. "What's going on? Rachel, you look incredibly tense."

"I'm not tense, I'm fine," Rachel says, practically jumping a foot in the air when a car horn sounds outside. "She's here. I have to go. Bye!"

Michael and Raymond stare after their daughter before the taller of the two lifts the pancake to his mouth to take another bite.

"She was pretty tense, right?" he asks, carrying the rest of the pancakes towards the dining room. "What's going on?"

Michael follows after him laden down with maple syrup, plates and cutlery.

"I think our daughter has a crush on Quinn Fabray," he says, a frown creasing his brow.

Outside, Rachel tosses her bag in the back seat of Quinn's car and climbs clumsily into the front, hitting the side of her head.

"Ow!" she exclaims, pressing a hand to it as she reaches to close the door.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asks, peering at her with concern. "Let me take a look." She lifts her hand to pry Rachel's away and checks for any cuts. "You're not bleeding but you'll probably have a little lump." The pad of Quinn's thumb runs softly over the already bruised flesh and Rachel winces slightly. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Rachel says, noticing that Quinn's hand lingers a little too long against her skin but not minding in the slightest.

"It's the place on Lincoln, right?" Quinn asks, finally retracting her hand and turning her attention to their destination.

"Yeah, there's a parking lot around the back," Rachel says, fastening her seatbelt and checking her head in the mirror again. A faint bruise adorns the left side of her forehead.

"I could kiss it better," Quinn says, causing Rachel to look at her incredulously.

"If you want," Rachel says.

"Huh?" Quinn asks, her eyebrow raised. "I asked if you were feeling better. Last night you said you didn't feel up to going to the movies with Finn. Are you feeling better now?"

Realising that she'd misheard the other girl, Rachel blushes slightly and grimaces

"I felt fine," she says. "It was my turn to choose a movie."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Quinn asks, keeping her eyes on the road as she reaches an intersection.

"He gets bored by the movies I pick. I get the pleasure of watching _Zombie Apocalypse 4_ or something starring Adam Sandler uninterrupted but whenever I pick a film, he wants to make out all the time because he's bored," Rachel says with a shrug. "I can't remember the last time I actually watched a film that I _want_ to see."

"Well, you could today," Quinn says. "I'll try not to get bored."

_I probably wouldn't mind if you did._

The thought crosses Rachel's mind causing her to blush a little deeper but Quinn is too engrossed in driving to notice. The rest of their journey passes in silence and at the dance studio, Rachel leads Quinn down a corridor to a small room near the end. As they pass by, Quinn peers in through the windows of most of the doors seeing kids and adults of various ages engaged in everything from ballet to hip hop to jazz.

"So you used to dance?" Rachel asks, placing her bag on the floor near the mirrors at the far end of the room.

"Yeah, before I moved to Lima," Quinn says, looking for a spot to sit down. "Then I started cheerleading and had a lot less time." Her attention is diverted however when Rachel slides down the sweatpants she's wearing to reveal legs encased in skin-tight black lycra.

"Do you think you'll take it up again now that you've stopped cheerleading?" Rachel asks, oblivious to the meltdown she's causing in Quinn's brain.

"Maybe," Quinn says absentmindedly, shaking her head slightly and slouching down against the mirrors. She pulls out a book she's supposed to be reading for an English assignment out of her bag but continues watching as Rachel ties her ballet shoes before pulling off her sweatshirt.

The brunette moves through a series of quick stretches forcing Quinn to stare at her book determinedly though she isn't reading a word of what's on the page. She reminds herself that she's seen Rachel naked before realising that was possibly the most stupid thought she could have had at this moment.

Aware that Quinn's eyes are following her, Rachel goes to set up her music and takes her position in the middle of the room, smiling when she meets Quinn's eye and biting back a laugh when the other girl blushes and stares down at her book.

Quinn lasts half an hour before having to excuse herself from the room under the guise of going to the vending machine she'd spotted on the way in. She buys a bottle of water and wanders around the foyer for a couple of minutes, trying to collect her thoughts and berating herself for one of her worst ideas ever.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asks when Quinn makes it back to the room. Quinn holds up her bottle of water and smiles.

"Just a little thirsty," she says.

"Are you ready?" Rachel asks, leaving the blonde a little stumped.

"Ready for…?" Quinn replies, getting ready to sit down again.

"I believe you said you were going to show me some of your moves," Rachel says with a smirk. Quinn pauses and glances over at Rachel.

"Oh," Quinn says. "It's okay. You're doing really well on your own."

"Quinn, come dance with me," Rachel says, holding out her hands and pouting a little.

Unable to resist the look on Rachel's face, Quinn drops her bottle of water to the ground and makes her way to the centre of the room.

"I don't have the right shoes for ballet," Quinn attempts to protest but Rachel shakes her head.

"Show me anything," she says. Quinn hesitates before positioning her feet and performing a couple of steps. "You have good lines," Rachel observes. "I can imagine you as a ballerina. Did you take part in any other classes?"

"Ballroom," Quinn says, looking away bashfully. "It was my mom's idea… she was a dancer when she was young. If she hadn't met my dad, she probably would have ended up competing professionally. I took classes for a year or so."

"Teach me," Rachel says, skipping away from Quinn to change the music.

"Oh no," Quinn objects, trying to back away from the brunette. "It's been years and I don't think I can remember the steps."

"Try," Rachel says with a grin, standing in the centre of the room. "Please, Quinn."

"You can't just pout at me and expect to get your way," Quinn says, folding her arms across her chest. Rachel pouts back at her, unflinching in the face of Quinn's statement. "And this music isn't the right beat for a cha cha." Quinn sighs wearily as she goes to change the music.

"Shouldn't you teach me the steps before we try the music?" Rachel asks. Quinn pauses before hitting the Play button and walks back to Rachel, showing her how to hold her arms.

"So, step back, side, side, cha cha cha, forward, back, cha cha cha," Quinn counts out as Rachel moves around the room. "Keep your arm locked."

"It would be easier if I was dancing _with_ you," Rachel huffs, dropping her arms. "Can you lead?"

"I can try," Quinn says, reluctantly stepping in front of Rachel. She positions their arms and starts to lead Rachel around the room. "Lock your frame," she instructs, gripping Rachel's hand a little tighter. "Shoulders back."

"Bossy," Rachel smirks. "Should we try this with music? We only have five minutes left. The woman who books this room after me is always early."

"She can wait then," Quinn says, going to start the song. "Step back on the left foot first…OW!"

"Oops," Rachel cringes, retracting her right foot.

Quinn shakes her head then counts them in. Surprisingly they make it once around the room before Rachel missteps and trips over Quinn's right foot. The blonde is quick to pull Rachel upright, locking the shorter girl's arm again.

"Spaghetti arms," she murmurs, spinning Rachel before continuing their circle around the room. The brunette giggles, letting her arm drop slightly. "You're doing that on purpose."

"Maybe," Rachel says. "You're really good at this."

"Thank you."

The music stops and both girls hesitate before letting go of one another. Rachel grabs Quinn's arm before the taller girl can move away and pulls her close again. Quinn's gaze wavers, not quite meeting Rachel's as the brunette intertwines their fingers.

"We should…" Quinn whispers.

"Yes," Rachel agrees before leaning in closer to Quinn.

Millimetres from each other, there's a sharp knock on the door and the indignant face of an older woman appears at the window. Rachel sighs and moves away, grumbling under her breath. Quinn takes a shaky breath, running her hand through her hair before gathering up her things.

Both girls remain silent until they're sitting outside Rachel's house. Quinn kills the engine and shoots Rachel a nervous look.

"Thanks for letting me watch," Quinn says. "I mean, come."

Rachel grins, causing the blonde to blush furiously.

"I mean, it was nice to be back in a dance studio," Quinn finishes lamely, wishing that the world would choose this moment to open up and swallow her.

"Thanks for driving me," Rachel says. "And for the dance lesson." She reaches into the back seat for her bag and gives Quinn a curious look. "What time is the movie?"

"Two," Quinn replies, tired of trying to stop her stomach from doing cartwheels. She realises that she's destined to be awkward around Rachel forever.

"See you in a couple of hours then," Rachel says, leaning over to peck Quinn's cheek.

Too surprised to contemplate doing anything else, Quinn drives away from the Berry household, grinning madly to herself.

**xxxxx**

The movie passes without incident. There are no significant moments where Quinn wants to go hide in a dark corner because she's said or done something embarrassing. Quinn pays for the tickets, Rachel gets the popcorn. Their seats are near the back of the half-full theatre and during the previews, they avoid talking about anything related to their almost-kiss at the dance studio and Rachel's subsequent cheek-kiss. During the movie, Rachel whispers along with all the words to all of the songs which Quinn finds ridiculously endearing.

The Berry's house is in darkness when Quinn drops Rachel off; only one car is sitting in the driveway.

"My dads are having dinner with a few friends," Rachel says.

"I think my mom is out tonight too," Quinn replies.

"Do you have anything planned for this evening?" Quinn shakes her head. "Maybe you should come in for a while. We could order food or watch a movie or just… talk. Or something."

_Or something._

"Okay," Quinn nods. "That all sounds… good."

"Good," Rachel says before climbing out of the car, leaving Quinn to follow after her. Self-consciously, Quinn walks into the Berry household as Rachel hangs up her coat and gestures for Quinn to take off hers. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really," Quinn says, patting her stomach. "I think I ate most of the popcorn."

"… and we just watched a movie. I don't think I could sit through another one right now. That leaves us with…" Rachel tails off, feeling her cheeks start to colour. "How about we talk?"

"I'm fine with talking," Quinn says, just happy to be doing anything that prolongs leaving the Berry household.

After a brief discussion about how the perfect hot chocolate should be made (Quinn insisting that the perfect amount of mini-marshmallows is five, Rachel asserting that vegan whipped cream won't ruin the overall taste), the pair settles in the lounge. Silence falls over them as each girl tries to figure out a starting place for their 'talk'.

"I mean, we should talk," Rachel says after eventually draining the contents of her favourite 'I Heart NY' mug. "There are things we need to discuss and figure out and… I can't really focus on any of that because all I can think about is what happened when we were about to leave the dance studio."

Quinn nods a couple of times before setting her mug on the coffee table in front of them and turning to face Rachel. She has to cover her mouth to stop that laugh that bubbles up almost immediately.

"What?" Rachel asks, eyeing the blonde curiously, feigning innocence. "What's wrong? Do I have something on my face?"

"Like you don't know," Quinn replies, reaching over to wipe the splodge of whipped cream from Rachel's nose. Hesitantly, she brings her finger to her lips and licks it clean. "That actually isn't bad."

"Told you," Rachel says, rolling her eyes. "So, the almost-kiss."

"The almost-kiss," Quinn repeats, though thoroughly distracted by the thought of Rachel and whipped cream and kissing and… Quinn shifts uncomfortably on the couch and tries to focus elsewhere.

_Maybe try listening to the girl instead of fantasising about her…_

"You're not listening," Rachel says exasperatedly.

"You're really distracting," Quinn blushes. "I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go upstairs and continue what we started earlier this week but since you didn't hear _any_ of it, I guess we'll just have to find something else to talk about," Rachel says, watching as Quinn's blush deepens and her jaw works furiously as she tries to find a way to backtrack.

"Did I mention how sorry I am?" Quinn asks. "Really, truly, very sorry."

"I'm not sure I believe you, Quinn," Rachel sighs, her bottom lip protruding ever so slightly. Quinn imagines tugging on that bottom lip before shaking her head slightly. "Show me."

"Show you?" Quinn says blankly.

"Show me," Rachel repeats, kicking off her shoes and turning her body fully to face Quinn. She swings her legs up onto the couch and slides backwards until she's leaning against the armrest. Quinn swallows hard before regaining use of her basic motor skills.

"You're sure about the lack of talking?" Quinn asks, bending down to unlace her sneakers when Rachel rolls her eyes, positive that Rachel's dads wouldn't be happy about her shoes leaving marks on their upholstery.

_Or that I'm making out with their daughter._

"What are you smirking at?" Rachel asks, interrupting Quinn's thoughts.

"I'm worrying about keeping my shoes off the couch when I really should be more concerned about what your dads would do if they caught us…" Quinn trails off, sliding off her Converse and shifting her body to kneel on the couch. The way Rachel is gazing up at her is enough to send her pulse racing.

Quinn feels eager hands tugging at the front of her cardigan and finds herself flat out against Rachel. Any trace of nervousness that the brunette had displayed earlier in the week is gone and replaced by an assuredness and a confidence that Quinn finds ridiculously hot. Their kiss is light, teasing at first, as they manoeuvre themselves into a comfortable position, hips pressing together as arms and legs find purchase in the soft cushions.

"Is it weird that I've missed this?" Rachel murmurs between kisses. Quinn shakes her head slightly before nipping at Rachel's bottom lip eliciting a soft whimper from the brunette.

"No," Quinn answers, eyes closing when insistent hands start pulling at the buttons of her cardigan and an overwhelming desire to have Rachel wearing as little clothing as possible rushes over her.

_This isn't part of the plan…_

Quinn feels the cardigan being pulled down over her arms before Rachel's hands immediately set about removing the next layer, a t-shirt that had belonged to her sister once upon a time until it had found its way into Quinn's wardrobe and never quite made it back across the hallway. The t-shirt is wrenched up and over her head, tossed to the side as carelessly as the cardigan had been.

Rachel unabashedly stares down between their bodies, drinking in the sight of Quinn's abdomen before letting her nails rake over the pale flesh, leaving faint red marks behind. Quinn all but growls as the feeling of being marked by Rachel sends sensations running through her body.

_Screw the plan._

"Maybe we should…" Quinn gestures upwards with her head, implying that they should go upstairs because as much as she loves this couch and the delicious friction it's creating between them, she has this horrible feeling that they're going to get caught.

Rachel ignores her request however and brings Quinn's lips crashing back to hers, causing the blonde to cease all coherent thought. Completely aware of the power that she holds over Quinn, Rachel unclasps the blonde's bra; the taller girl pulls away, breathless and surprised.

"Rach…" she mutters. "What if…"

"They won't," Rachel says soothingly, cupping Quinn's cheek. "I want to make up for running out on you."

"It doesn't have to be like that," Quinn says with a smile. "Just because I…" Quinn blushes. "It doesn't mean you have to…" Quinn gestures helplessly. "Sometime soon, I'm going to finish a sentence around you."

"I highly doubt that," Rachel says, fastening the clasp of Quinn's bra again and pressing her lips tentatively against the blonde's. Rachel's hands follow the curve of Quinn's spine, coming to rest over the top of her jeans. "I think it's cute."

"I'm cute?" Quinn asks, her eyebrow arching.

"I'm going to go as far as _very_ cute," Rachel murmurs, bringing her lips to Quinn's once more.

Words slip both girls minds as the kiss deepens quickly. So much so that somewhere between Rachel's hands grasping at Quinn a little firmer, Quinn's hips grinding down against Rachel a little harder and both girls' moans becoming a little bit louder, they fail to hear the sound of a car slowing to a stop outside the house or the quick footsteps on the path or the key turning in the lock.

Raymond Berry takes five steps inside his house before he shouts a hello to his daughter and her friend, whose car is sitting at the bottom of the driveway. Three more steps take him to the doorway of the lounge where he leaps back in surprise, covering his eyes at the sight of his daughter shoving clothes at her friend. Her half-naked friend. Her half-naked friend who is a girl. A girl who is not his daughter's boyfriend.

"Oh god," he mutters, leaning against the wall.

"Papa?"

"I didn't see anything," he calls back, moving quickly past the doorway to the kitchen to get… something. The reason he'd returned to the house. The house where he lives with his daughter. He scans the countertop before spotting it: his wallet. He slides it into his pocket and turns, jumping when he finds Rachel waiting in the hall.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says nervously, waiting to see what kind of response her papa has for her. He sighs heavily, not entirely sure where to start. He can't lecture her for being too young; she's nearly eighteen after all. But this is going to require some sort of discipline and discussion about relationships and half-nakedness in communal rooms.

"We'll discuss it later," he says. "When your dad and I get home."

"Okay," Rachel replies in the smallest voice imaginable.

"I'm not mad," he whispers, embracing his daughter in a side-hug. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and hurries down the hall, pausing in the doorway of the lounge. A now-clothed Quinn is sitting hunched on the sofa, head in her hands. "Nice to meet you, Ms Fabray."

"You too, Mr Berry," she says, unable to meet his eye as her cheeks blaze crimson. "Sir."

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he leaves the house. His husband must be a little bit psychic after all.

"So, your parents are going to hate me," Quinn says when Rachel joins her on the couch again.

"They won't," Rachel reassures her, sliding her hand into Quinn's and watching as the blonde's fingers tighten between hers. "They're going to be upset with me because of… because of what I'm doing to Finn."

Quinn falls silent, leaning back against the cushions as an uncomfortable feeling of guilt settles over her. She can't come up with anything to say and her cheeks are still burning as the shocked look on Mr Berry's face replays over and over in her brain.

"I think I should go," she says at last.

"Quinn…" Rachel begins, tightening her grip on the blonde.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Quinn says resignedly. "I'm just too embarrassed to be in this house right now."

Rachel nods and drops Quinn's hand, watching helplessly as the other girl grabs her sneakers and pulls them back on. She walks Quinn to the door and tries to figure out what to say to make this situation better.

"I'll call," Quinn promises, pressing a kiss to Rachel's cheek as she leaves the house. Rachel closes the door after Quinn pulls away and heads back to the lounge to clear away the empty mugs. As she stands at the sink, scrubbing absentmindedly, she tries to figure out what she's going to say to her dads.

And what she's going to say to Finn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes: **Final part (sorry it's not longer, I'm working on something that is though!). Thanks for the encouragement I've received from everyone. You guys rock!

_1:26_

Rachel sighs and turns away from the clock. She stares into the darkness of her room before closing her eyes. She's been lying down for close to two hours now and is still as wide-awake as she'd been when she'd crawled into bed after her talk with her parents.

_1:28_

She sighs again, a little more dramatically this time and reaches for her phone. The brightness of the screen in the pitch black room causes her to squint and turn on her bedside light. Despite knowing how late it is and how unlikely it is that the message she's writing will be read any time soon, she sends it anyway and tosses her phone onto the bedspread.

Drumming her fingers against her stomach, she tries to force herself to sleep while replaying the conversation she'd had with her dads over and over in her mind.

Her dads had called her down to the lounge as soon as they'd arrived home. Well, after they'd sat in the driveway for close to half an hour, talking loudly and gesturing expansively. Rachel had watched them from her bedroom window and felt the knot of tension in her stomach tighten slightly. She'd attempted to plan out everything she wanted to say to them but could already feel the words slipping away from her.

When they'd finally exited the car, Rachel had jumped back from the window and launched herself onto her bed, chewing her already ragged thumbnail.

"Rachel, could you come down here?"

Trying desperately to figure out the tone of her dad's voice, Rachel had taken her time walking down the stairs. Her dads had been waiting in the lounge, neither of them sitting on the couch that she and Quinn had occupied earlier on in that day. Her papa had smiled warmly at her and gestured for her to sit.

"So," her dad had said and stopped, unsure how to continue. He'd swallowed before looking up from the carpet and giving her a curious look. "First of all, we're not mad. We understand that things can get a little confusing when you're a teenager… all these hormones running around and…"

"Not that we condone 'making-out'…" Rachel had cringed when her papa had formed air-quotes with his fingers. He'd trailed off before remembering his next point. "You're still dating Finn,right?"

Rachel had nodded and opened her mouth to speak before realising she had no idea what to say.

"But you like Quinn?" her dad had asked, watching his daughter nod a little harder than before. "Have you always liked girls?"

Both men had agonised over how they could have possibly missed the signs that their own daughter might be gay. All they'd heard for the past couple of years had been 'Finn this' and 'Finn that'. There hadn't been any signs that this had been coming.

"I've always liked her," Rachel had admitted, feeling slightly relieved when she'd said the words out loud.

"Have you and Quinn…?" her dad had looked away, embarrassed but determined to be type of parent his hadn't been. He wanted Rachel to be able to talk about everything and anything. Rachel's cheeks had burned and that had given them their answer. Her papa had exhaled sharply and stood up from his favourite armchair, pacing the lounge floor a couple of times.

"I thought it would make me less confused," Rachel had said, wondering why the ground hadn't opened up and swallowed her whole yet. "But all it's actually done is confirmed that I have feelings for her. Real feelings."

Her dad and papa had shared a look before her dad had nodded.

"And it's okay to have those feelings," her dad had said. "It's normal and you know we have no problem with that at all."

"I know, dad," Rachel had murmured.

"But it's unfair on Finn," her papa had interrupted. "And it's unfair on you and Quinn too. Lying and sneaking around is not how we've raised you. We want you to promise that you'll talk to him as soon as you can."

"I promise."

Both men had breathed a sigh of relief.

"There's something else we need to discuss," her papa had added, gesturing to the couch where Rachel had been poised to escape. "As of right now, there will be a ban on all non-lounge-related activities including…"

"I got it, papa," Rachel had said, bouncing up from the couch and all but running out of the room.

Her phone buzzes softly on top of the blankets bringing her back into the present and she snatches it up, almost hoping that it's a message from Quinn before remembering who she'd sent a message to a few minutes ago.

_I'm outside x_

Rachel nearly trips over her blankets in her haste to get out of bed and check outside her window. True enough, a car is sitting at the curb and the owner is climbing out, making their way up the path. Thankful that her dads are incredibly heavy sleepers, Rachel pads down the stairs and unlocks the front door.

"Hey," she whispers, opening the door a little wider to let her visitor past. She locks the door again and gestures up the stairs, listening out for any sign that her dads have heard anything. Positive that they're still fast asleep in their room, Rachel guides the visitor into hers and closes the door as softly as possible.

"What's going on?" he asks, slipping off his boots when he sits down on the end of the bed.

"I need to talk to someone," Rachel says, grabbing a sweater from her wardrobe and climbing back onto her bed.

"At one-thirty in the morning?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "You're lucky that Blaine and I stayed up to watch the _Real Housewives of Atlanta_ marathon." Off Rachel's look, he hastily adds: "Well, Blaine watched it. I fell asleep over an hour ago."

"Sure," Rachel agrees, smirking slightly before shaking her head and lying down on her side. "I've done something awful."

Kurt tilts his head to the side, ready to tell his best friend that whatever she's done can't be that bad but the look on Rachel's face tells him that it actually is horrific. She hasn't looked this unhappy since Mr Schuester had suggested that they spend a week of glee club rehearsals dedicated to works of Tupac.

"Have you sent another girl to a crackhouse? Was it Sugar?" Kurt asks, somewhat hopefully.

"No," Rachel shakes her head. "No more crackhouses."

"Okay, you're scaring me a little, Rach," he says, lying down to face Rachel. He reaches between them and takes her hand. "What's up?" He watches his friend wrestle with the millions of words racing around her head before squeezing her hand. "Talk to me."

"I cheated on Finn," Rachel says in a rush, a quick exhale of air. She shuts her eyes tightly and waits for Kurt's reaction.

"What?" he asks blankly. "You cheated… on Finn?" Rachel nods. "But… what? Who with?"

"Does it matter?" Rachel asks, opening her eyes again to find Kurt's face the epitome of surprise. "It gets worse."

"Are you pregnant?" Kurt almost shouts before he remembers that it's very late at night and Rachel's dads are asleep down the hall.

"No!" Rachel hisses in return, glancing worriedly at her bedroom door.

"Not that I would have minded being a fabulous uncle…" Kurt says and Rachel smiles a little. "Okay. You need to talk and I'm going to listen. I'm not going to judge or interrupt."

For a moment, Rachel feels conflicted. Kurt is Finn's stepbrother and despite a rocky beginning to their relationship as siblings, the pair is getting along really well. But she also realises that she doesn't have many options to vent about what's happened.

"It was sort of an experiment," Rachel begins, keeping her eyes on their joined hands even though her mind immediately replaces Kurt's hand with Quinn's. She imagines the other girl's thumb stroking the back of her hand and squeezes it in return.

"Rach?" Kurt asks, bringing her attention back to him. "An experiment?"

"Oh," she says, collecting her thoughts again. "Sorry. Things with Finn… they didn't go as well as I'd hoped they would. After _West Side Story_." Kurt looks at her blankly for a few seconds before his mouth opens in a silent 'oh'.

"But you said…" he trails off and Rachel blushes before shaking her head slightly. "Oh."

"No, it was okay," Rachel says hurriedly. "But I thought I'd feel more. That I'd feel closer to him and that it would affirm everything that I've ever believed about us."

"And it didn't," Kurt supplies.

"Not even close," Rachel says despondently. "And I tried to figure it out… was it me? Was it Finn? I didn't have anyone else to compare it to…" Kurt watches the turmoil on Rachel's face and wishes he could find an easy way to make it better for his best friend. "You told me that your first time was amazing. And I guess I wanted to have sex with someone who I already knew could make me feel that way."

"So it was someone you've dated before?" Kurt asks, already guessing that Puck is the answer. Rachel shakes her head. "Someone from glee club?" Rachel nods.

"Up until a week ago, I'd never admitted what I'm about to tell you to anyone," Rachel says. "Not even to myself really. I've always kind of had a crush on Quinn."

Ten seconds pass before Kurt's eyes widen and his jaw drops and he just stares at Rachel, completely flummoxed.

"Kurt?" Rachel asks with a hint of concern after a minute passes in complete silence. She squeezes his hand and watches a frown crease his forehead.

"Quinn?" he asks. "God, I thought it was Puck. I mean, you're far too good for him but still, I thought it was Puck. But Quinn? Quinn Fabray? Quinn the former cheerleader and ex-captain of the unwed mothers' society Fabray?"

"That's the one," Rachel murmurs, lifting a hand to cup Kurt's face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm a little shocked," Kurt says. "Just give me a moment." He rolls onto his back, closing his eyes. Rachel sighs and lies back against her pillows.

"Drama queen," Rachel says, poking his side. Kurt tries to squirm away.

"My best friend texts me in the middle of the night to confess her lesbian affairs and _I'm_ the drama queen?" he whispers as loudly as possible.

"Affair," Rachel corrects him.

"How did Quinn feel about being a part of your experiment?" Kurt asks after another lengthy silence. Rachel had finally felt herself falling asleep and startles slightly at the sound of Kurt's voice.

"She was surprisingly willing," Rachel says, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

"I can see why," Kurt says before yawning himself. "That was so attractive."

Rachel rolls her eyes and gives Kurt a quick shove.

"You're taking this better than I imagined you would," Rachel says, grasping his hand again. "Remember how I said that it gets worse?"

"How can cheating on your boyfriend, who happens to be your best friend's stepbrother, with his ex-girlfriend get any worse?"

"My papa caught us earlier today," Rachel says, closing her eyes when Kurt gasps.

"Caught you?"

"Making out," Rachel hastily adds. "Not anything else. Quinn might have been a little bit topless."

"Oh my god," Kurt says with a grimace. "So your dads know and I know… does anyone else?" Rachel shakes her head quickly. "What did they say?"

"I'm banned from making out with anyone in the lounge," Rachel says, knowing that Kurt is asking what her parents think of the fact she's cheating on Finn. "They made me promise that I'd talk to him sooner rather than later. They weren't mad but I think they're pretty disappointed. It makes me wonder why I'm not disappointed with myself, why I don't feel as guilty as I probably should. I feel bad that I'm going to hurt Finn but I don't feel guilty for cheating."

"How do you feel?"

"Relieved," Rachel sighs. "Which isn't a good sign. I should be feeling remorse."

Kurt considers this for a few seconds.

"I think that tells you what you need to do then," Kurt says.

"Yeah," Rachel agrees with a slight nod. She yawns again and inches closer to Kurt, snuggling against him. "I don't think I can stay awake any longer. You want to stay the night?"

"Shhh, sleeping," he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his eyes already closed.

"Thanks for not freaking out," Rachel mumbles.

"I'm sure I will in the morning," he replies.

**xxxxx**

After a long Sunday morning run around the track, Quinn returns home to find Rachel ringing her doorbell, oblivious to the fact that no-one is home. Quinn slows and removes her headphones as she makes her way up the path, a smile working its way across her somewhat-numb face.

"Can I help you?" she calls before Rachel can jab the button again. She whirls around before glancing back at the house.

"Oh," she says and steps to the side to allow Quinn to unlock the door. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Quinn replies, pushing the door open and allowing Rachel to enter before her. "How long have you been here?"

"Just a couple of minutes," Rachel says. "I thought that you'd be finished with church by now… except, you clearly never went." She glances up and down the length of Quinn's body and instantaneously feels her heart beat a little faster. "How was the track?"

"Cold," Quinn says, leading Rachel straight to the kitchen to make herself something to warm her up. "Can I get you something?"

"No, this is just a quick visit," Rachel says, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. "I'm on my way to Finn's." She watches as Quinn bends down to massage a cramp out of her calf. "Are you okay?"

"A little sore," Quinn says, grimacing when her fingers rub over a knot of tension.

"Can I help?" Rachel asks, taking a couple of steps closer. Quinn waves her away though, trying to hop around the room. "Quinn, please let me help."

Quinn straightens out her leg and yelps at the pain, cursing under her breath as she continues to hop around the room. Rachel catches her around the waist, forcing her to hold still.

"Sit down," Rachel instructs, helping to lower Quinn to the hard, cold floor. She moves Quinn's hands away from the sore spot and runs the pads of her thumbs over it, wincing at the groan that rises up from Quinn's chest. "What's wrong? You're acting like you don't want me to touch you."

Quinn grits her teeth as Rachel's fingers start to manipulate her calf muscle, working out the cramp until the pain subsides.

"I'm still a little embarrassed," Quinn admits. "About your dads. And now I'm worried that my mom is going to burst in on us in what's probably going to end up being a pretty compromising position."

"Are you insinuating that I can't keep my hands off you?" Rachel asks, increasing the pressure she's applying to Quinn's calf.

"Maybe," Quinn replies, letting her head fall back against the cupboards behind her. "That feels so good." Rachel stays silent, concentrating on the task at hand until she's positive that Quinn's cramp is completely gone.

"Better?" she asks, hands slowing until she's stroking the back of Quinn's leg with her fingertips.

"Much," Quinn murmurs, far too focused on how Rachel's fingers are trailing higher and higher with every stroke. "Rachel…"

"Quinn," Rachel says, shuffling forwards until she's all but sitting on Quinn's lap. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I've talked to my dads and Kurt and…"

"You talked to Kurt?" Quinn interrupts, eyes snapping open, a worried look on her face.

"I needed to talk to someone, to try and figure out what I'm feeling," Rachel says quickly.

"And your boyfriend's stepbrother was your choice?" Quinn asks, eyebrow arching.

"Kurt is my best friend," Rachel says firmly, reaching for Quinn's hands, sensing that the blonde is getting ready to have a panic attack. "I trust him." She leans forward to peck Quinn's cheek. "Have you changed your mind about…" Struggling to find a word that accurately describes what they _are_, she gestures between their bodies, "…this?"

When Quinn fails to respond, Rachel pulls the blonde's gaze towards her and captures her lips. She feels the other girl acquiesce and hands grip her waist.

"Are you going anywhere this afternoon?" Rachel asks, pulling away half-heartedly.

"No plans," Quinn replies, reluctantly letting her hands drop away from Rachel as the brunette begins to get to her feet. As much as she loves kissing Rachel, there are parts of her – increasingly dominant parts of her – that are endlessly frustrated by how their last two sessions have ended.

"Do you want me to come back later?"

Quinn nods and gets to her feet, still feeling her calf muscle twinge when she puts pressure on it. She decides that a hot bath might be the best solution instead of the cold shower that she really wants to take.

"If you feel up to it, then yes," Quinn says, limping slightly as she walks to the front door with Rachel.

"I'll see you later."

**xxxxx**

"Just five more minutes, Rach," Finn says as he blasts zombies or vampires or zombie vampires to pieces. Rachel has been perched on the end of Finn's bed for the better part of an hour and she's getting increasingly annoyed.

"Finn, it's really important that we talk," she says but it falls on deaf ears. She sighs heavily and gets up. Finn barely takes his gaze away from the screen as she rummages behind the TV, unsurprised to find a tangle of cables. Unable to figure out which one leads from the games console, she starts pulling. The screen goes black and Finn looks up, a look of annoyance crossing his features.

"Rachel, what the hell…?" he asks, getting to his feet. "I said five minutes…"

"You said that an hour ago, Finn," Rachel interrupts, moving to sit on the chair next to the desk. "We need to talk."

Finn frowns at her and nods.

"Has this got something to do with why you've been ignoring me for the past week or so?" he asks, settling down on the bed. Rachel nods in return, twisting her hands in her lap as she tries to decide where to begin. "The reason why you've been ignoring me since the final night of _West Side Story?"_

"I need to tell you something," Rachel says.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Finn asks, jumping to the end of the short speech Rachel had rehearsed in her head on the way over.

"I think that's going to be the only option," Rachel admits, glancing down at her hands. "I'm not proud of what I've done and I'm not asking for you to forgive me but I need to be honest with you. It's only fair."

"Did you cheat on me?" he asks, his voice completely hollow. When Rachel nods, he takes a shaky breath and leans forward, placing his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Finn."

**xxxxx**

Kurt arrives home to shouting and the sound of a door slamming and possibly a piece of furniture being knocked over. Quick footsteps run down the stairs before Rachel comes into view, upset but not crying.

"Hey," he says, offering her a sad smile before wrapping her up in a hug. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay. I'm not so sure about Finn," Rachel replies, taking a shaky breath. More footsteps sound and Finn starts to lumber down the stairs. He pulls up short at the sight of Kurt holding Rachel in his arms.

"I told you to go, Rachel," he says, running a hand over his face to get rid of the tears he hadn't been able to stop from falling. Rachel breaks out of Kurt's embrace and, without a backward glance, leaves the house.

"Finn…" Kurt says, watching his stepbrother stomp towards the kitchen.

"Don't say you're sorry," Finn says, almost smashing a glass when he slams it down on the counter. "It doesn't make any of this easier. She told you, right? About what she did?"

Kurt nods, leaning back against the counter.

"You didn't think to give me a head's up?"

"It wasn't my place," Kurt says with a small shrug. "She didn't do it to hurt you. She did it to figure things out about herself. I think you might have been the last thing on her mind actually."

"You're really not helping, Kurt," Finn says, staring incredulously at his stepbrother. "She could have broken up with me first before she jumped into bed with Quinn."

"Would that have made this any easier?" Kurt asks, taking the glass from Finn's hand and filling it with water. He hands it back and Finn gulps down half of it. Slowly he shakes his head before slouching down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "People make mistakes, sometimes unforgivable mistakes, but you have choices here, Finn. You can rise above all of this and be the bigger man."

Kurt looks Finn up and down.

"Figuratively and literally," he adds. Finn rolls his eyes.

"Can I be mad at her for a little while at least?" Finn asks, draining the rest of his glass.

"I recommend it," Kurt says with a swift nod. "And if you need someone to help you take out an army in whatever video game you're currently playing, you know where I am." Finn gives him a curious look. "Well, I can get Blaine here to help you out."

Finn gets up from the chair and starts to head out of the room, hesitating when he reaches the doorway. He turns and pats Kurt on the shoulder.

"Thanks Kurt. I was pretty set on putting my fist through a wall when I came down the stairs," he says.

"That I don't recommend," Kurt says, smiling up at the taller boy. "My dad would have a fit."

"My mom too," Finn says gravely. "Look, can you do me a favour?"

"Sure," Kurt replies, helping himself to some strawberry smoothie from the fridge.

"I could really use some of those pancakes you made my mom when she was sick," Finn says.

"I'll bring you up a stack," Kurt says with a smile. "Syrup? Or chocolate sauce? I think we have both."

"Whatever you think will help the most," Finn replies before disappearing out of the room. Kurt sighs to himself and starts pulling ingredients from the cupboards and the fridge. While whipping up the batter, he muses over the fact that if NYADA decides that they don't want him, he could probably make a killing opening his own pancake house for the sick and broken-hearted.

**xxxxx**

Quinn takes Rachel's complete lack of communication over the next few days as a bad sign.

When the brunette barely looks her way in Spanish class, Quinn feels unease spread through her body. At lunch, Rachel sits alone, picking forlornly at a plate of salad and excuses herself when Kurt approaches to sit with her, all but running for the door. After school, Quinn sits in the back row at glee club, watching the doorway for Rachel's entrance but she never appears.

Instead, she gets to deal with Finn, glowering at her whenever she crosses his eyeline, and whispered conversations from all the other glee club members that mysteriously cease whenever she comes close enough to hear.

It's late on Wednesday night when Rachel finally makes contact.

_Hey._

The message causes her phone to vibrate loudly on her bedside table and brings her out of the doze she'd fallen into while trying to do Chemistry homework. She frowns at the message and although she has a hundred questions for Rachel, she types back the shortest response she can come up with.

_Hey yourself._

It feels like the longest five minutes and thirty-eight seconds before the phone buzzes again. Quinn snatches it up.

_Can we meet tomorrow lunch time to look at my Spanish project?_

Remembering her promise to help Rachel with the project, Quinn taps out a reply saying that that would be okay. She spends a few minutes agonising over how to end the message. With an x, without an x, with a question… eventually she settles for asking if Rachel is okay and can't concentrate until the reply comes through.

_I just need some time. See you tomorrow xx_

With a heavy sigh, Quinn tosses her phone away and turns her attention to her chemistry homework, trying to make sense of the jumble of graphs and formulae on the page of her textbook. If Rachel wants time, then Quinn is going to give her time. She has all the time in the world.

**xxxxx**

Rachel finds an unoccupied table near the back of the library and pulls her Spanish project out of her bag before sitting down to wait for Quinn. After pretty much ignoring the other girl for the past three days, Rachel is under no illusion that the next hour is going to be awkward; more awkward than their encounters usually are.

"Hey," Quinn's voice interrupts her thoughts and she glances up, a smile working its way across her features as even the sound of the blonde's voice causes a visceral reaction inside her. Quinn pulls out a chair and sits down across from her. "So, what do you need help with?"

A little shocked by how abrupt Quinn's tone is, Rachel hesitantly reaches for a few sheets of paper and hands them to Quinn.

"I'm not sure about a couple of things," she says. "I've underlined them in red. Could you tell me if I've used the right verb and tense?"

Quinn nods and picks up a pen. Rachel glances away, drumming her fingers against the desk as she tries to figure out what to say. Less than two minutes later, Quinn stops scribbling and hands the pieces of paper back.

"It's good," she says, a hint of a smile crossing her lips. "Anything else?"

Rachel shakes her head slightly.

"That was it," she says, feeling defeated. Quinn's expression softens and she moves a chair closer to Rachel.

"I thought you were going to come back," Quinn says quietly. "I waited around. Even just to hear that you were okay. Or not okay. Anything. And you ignored me for three days."

"I've been ignoring everyone," Rachel says, looking away, her gaze settling on the bookshelves to her right. "I mean, everyone is going to be on Finn's side. I'm the cheater here."

"I'm not on his side. And anyone who judges you for what you've done is a hypocrite. It's not as though any of us in glee club have stellar track records when it comes to relationships. Even Tina and Mike started dating while Tina was still with Artie," Quinn says, reaching for Rachel's hand.

"I guess…" Rachel frowns.

"Look, I'll give you time. I'll give you space. But you can't shut us all out forever. You should come to glee club this afternoon. Stop hiding."

Rachel sighs and nods slightly. Quinn squeezes her hand and leans in a little closer.

"If you're not there, I'm going to find you and drag you there myself," the blonde warns, letting her lips brush against Rachel's cheek before catching herself and moving away quickly. "I'm sorry."

"No," Rachel says, pulling Quinn back towards her. "I'm sorry."

"Are you coming to the cafeteria?" Quinn asks. "I'm pretty sure I saw vegan lasagne on the menu when I passed by earlier." Rachel considers Quinn's offer for a few seconds before the blonde rolls her eyes and scoops up the brunette's papers and bag. "Come on."

"Quinn, wait," Rachel says, grabbing Quinn's arm before the taller girl can leave. "Has Finn said anything to you or spoken to you at all?"

"No, but judging by the looks that he's been giving me all week, I'm assuming you told him that it was me," Quinn replies, hoisting Rachel's bag more comfortably onto her shoulder.

"He guessed," Rachel says with a shrug. "I didn't want to lie about anything else so I told him it was you but that it was all my fault."

"I could have said no," Quinn states. "I'm not completely blameless here."

"Can you honestly imagine a scenario in which you said no?" Rachel asks, lowering her voice as a couple of students draw near, scouring the shelves for books in the History section. Quinn lowers her head slightly as a blush colours her cheeks. Chewing the corner of her bottom lip, she glances back up before grinning and shaking her head.

"No."

**xxxxx**

Too restless to while away her Saturday morning watching cartoons, Quinn finds herself pulling on a couple of extra layers, lacing up her sneakers and heading out to the track. There are two other runners, puffing and panting their way around the track, but both give up within five minutes of Quinn arriving. She stretches quickly and starts her run slowly, building up her pace until she's in time with the music pumping into her ears.

She's nearing the end of her sixth lap when a solitary figure at the other end of the track distracts her. They're not running, just standing, waiting. She keeps running but starts to slow when she realises that she recognises the person's red coat.

"Are you here to run?" Quinn calls, slowing to a stop while Rachel hugs her arms across her chest, trying to keep some warmth inside.

"Not exactly," she replies. Quinn starts to stretch her legs, aware that Rachel's gaze has dropped. "Are you still getting cramp in your leg?"

"Yeah," Quinn says. "It isn't as bad as last week though."

"A dance class would probably help," Rachel muses.

"I've already said that I'll think about classes in January," Quinn rolls her eyes. "Speaking of dancing, why aren't you at the studio?"

"I didn't feel like it today. Maybe next week," Rachel shrugs, jamming her hands into her pockets now and silencing whatever Quinn is about to say with a look. "Besides, I have something to ask. Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

"You came all the way down here in the freezing cold to ask me to dinner?" Quinn grimaces as she bends down to massage a knot out of her left calf.

"Actually, I went to your house first," Rachel says. "No-one was home so I figured you might be here."

"Will your dads be there?" Quinn asks, blushing at the memory of her last encounter with one of Rachel's dads.

"They might be. Briefly. They have these date nights every month so they'll be going out for dinner," Rachel says. "I guess it depends on what time you come over."

"When do you want me there?" Quinn asks with a grin, straightening up to stretch her arms out in front of her.

"I'm not going anywhere this afternoon," Rachel says. "My only plan is to spend some time on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with a big mug of hot chocolate." Quinn nods.

"So I'll see you in a couple of hours then?"

"If you think you can survive the intense questioning that my dads are going to submit you to, then yes, I will see you in a couple of hours," Rachel says, grinning when Quinn turns a little pale. She turns to walk away, deciding that she's definitely spent far too long outside in the cold.

"I might be late…" the blonde calls to Rachel's retreating back, positive that Rachel is chuckling as she walks away.

**xxxxx**

When the doorbell rings, Rachel almost trips over her blanket in her haste to get to the front door before either of her dads do. She gives Quinn a smile and lets her pass, pulling off the blonde's hat as the other girl heads through to the lounge.

"Wuss," Rachel calls after her.

"The forecast is for snow," Quinn retorts, taking off her jacket, scarf and mittens. "Plus that hat is awesome." She reaches out for the moose-shaped hat which Rachel gladly tosses over.

"If you're five," Rachel grins.

"Winter is the only time of year when teenagers and adults can get away with wearing ridiculous things on their heads," Quinn sighs. "I guess I'll have to settle for being five."

"You're ridiculous," Rachel says, rolling her eyes. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Hot chocolate would be great," Quinn says. "Maybe put a shot of whisky in it? If you're about to introduce me to your dads, being mildly buzzed might help."

"Stop worrying," Rachel says, leaving the room. Quinn glances around nervously before heading through to the kitchen in case they decide to ambush her in the lounge. She pulls up short when she walks into the kitchen to find one of Rachel's dads at the breakfast bar. He glances over at her and a tight smile forms on his lips.

"Hello," he says, standing up and removing his glasses. "You must be Quinn. I'm Michael." They shake hands and Quinn notices that he squeezes her hand a little bit too tight, as though he's trying to intimidate her. It'd be more terrifying if Michael wasn't an inch shorter than Quinn.

"Nice to meet you," Quinn replies, retracting her hand and glancing over at Rachel who is watching them with a look of amusement on her face. "Rachel, do you need a hand?"

"No, no," she replies, putting five mini-marshmallows into Quinn's mug.

"I'm assuming Rachel will keep you informed of the rules we've set regarding the lounge," Michael says. "Just so you know, it's unlikely that either myself or my husband will be returning to the house after we've left but that doesn't mean you can take advantage…"

Quinn begins to blush and stammers over her words.

"I would never take advantage of your daughter, sir," she says.

"Dad, will you please stop scaring Quinn? She's here for dinner and we'll probably watch a couple of movies," Rachel says. "That's what friends do, right?"

"Right," Quinn agrees though completely disheartened by this statement. Rachel gives her a bright smile as she approaches with the two mugs of hot chocolate but wavers slightly at the frown on Quinn's face.

"What's wrong?" she asks. Quinn casts a quick glance at Rachel's dad, who is watching them intently before shaking her head and accepting one of the mugs.

"Nothing," Quinn says. "Let's go choose a movie."

Halfway through their first movie, Rachel sighs exasperatedly and wrenches the empty mug from Quinn's hands to place it on the table in front of them. She pushes pause on the remote and turns fully to look at Quinn.

"What?" she asks.

"What what?" Quinn replies, confusion causing her forehead to wrinkle.

"You're fidgeting," Rachel says. "You keep moving around and tapping your fingers against the mug and you're clearly not paying attention to the film. What's wrong?"

The sound of the front door slamming breaks Rachel's train of thought as her papa appears in the doorway of the lounge. Gasping in horror, he puts his hands over his eyes and backs away from the door. Rachel sighs heavily as Quinn starts to blush.

"Papa!" Rachel calls. "That's not funny."

"It was a little funny," he calls back before peeking around the doorframe. "Hello Quinn."

"Hello Mr Berry," Quinn says, standing up when he comes into the room.

"Raymond, please," he says, shooting an impressed look at his daughter when Quinn extends her hand to shake his. "I trust you two are behaving."

"Impeccably," Rachel replies, pulling Quinn back down onto the couch. "Quinn's never seen _High Society._"

"Isn't that a pity?" Raymond remarks sarcastically. "Rach, try to remember that not everyone lives for musicals the way you do. Maybe let Quinn choose the next one?"

"Maybe," Rachel huffs, turning her attention back to the movie. Raymond chuckles as he moves away from the doorway and heads down the corridor. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Quinn shakes her head. "Do you want to watch another movie?"

"No, let's finish this one," Quinn says, sinking back into the cushions heavily. "The next one is going to have significantly less musical numbers though."

**xxxxx**

Halfway through the second movie, Rachel tries again, feeling that Quinn isn't settling. The other girl reaches for the remote and pushes the pause button before turning to face Rachel.

"You said we're friends," Quinn says hesitantly. "Earlier. To your dad."

"We _are_ friends," Rachel frowns. "Aren't we?"

"Yes," Quinn replies. "We are."

"Is that a problem?" Rachel asks, a hint of incredulity creeping into her tone. "Because we could go back to being hostile and…"

"I thought we'd be more," Quinn interrupts. "After what happened between us. I mean, have I done something to make you not want to be with me? Because just before you went to Finn's, you pretty much mounted me on my kitchen floor. And then you ignored me for three days and now I have no idea what you're thinking…"

Quinn finds herself cut off by Rachel's lips pressing against her own and words flee from her brain. All the words. The brunette tugs on Quinn's lip before pulling back, a smile playing on her lips.

"Oh," Quinn exhales when Rachel pulls away.

"Does that make things clearer?"

"A little," Quinn murmurs. "I guess I don't want to rush you into anything but…"

"But you want reassurance," Rachel says, taking her hand. "Reassurance that you're not wasting your time with me."

"Reassurance that I'm not making an idiot of myself," Quinn says, gaze firmly trained on their joined hands. Rachel mulls over what to say next, watching as Quinn's thumb rubs a circle across the back of her hand.

"Finn asked me if we were going to start dating," Rachel squeezes the blonde's hand and waits for her to look up. "And when I told him that it was up to you, he said that I know nothing about you. But that isn't true. Sure, I don't know your favourite colour or your favourite movie but I know that you read the Classics during glee club and for the past two Christmases, you've read _A Christmas Carol_. I know you love dancing a lot more than you'll ever admit. I know you speak Spanish pretty much fluently. I know you have dreams and ambitions bigger than this town. And I know you have a birth mark on your right hip. I know that when I kiss you here…" Rachel leans in to place a kiss at the base of Quinn's neck before sucking lightly at the spot. Quinn moans, arching back into the cushions. Rachel pulls away with a satisfied smile on her face, "… you do that."

Before Rachel can pull any further away, Quinn reaches to grab her waist, pulling the shorter girl onto her lap. A long week of frustration starts to pour out of Quinn as they kiss and press against each other in a completely unsatisfying way. After a minute or so, Quinn groans and pulls Rachel around so that the brunette's knees rest on either side of Quinn's thighs.

"We should…" Rachel murmurs, not wanting to break away from the kiss but worried nonetheless that they'll be interrupted if they stay in the lounge. There's something about rules that her fathers had set also hovering on the edge of her consciousness that causes her to pull back a little further.

"Yeah," Quinn agrees, not waiting to hear the rest of Rachel's sentence. They scramble off the couch and make their way quickly up the stairs to Rachel's room. Quinn registers yellow walls and posters and a bed before Rachel starts to undress. "Blue."

"What?" Rachel asks, pausing to glance up at Quinn, jeans around her knees.

"You didn't know my favourite colour," Quinn says, watching the brunette shuck her jeans off and give her a look of amusement.

"Any particular shade?" Rachel asks, advancing on Quinn until she has the taller girl backed up against the door.

"Not really," Quinn stammers when she feels Rachel's lips against that spot on her neck once more. "Why limit yourself to one shade of blue when it covers so many different things? The sky, the ocean, the um…" Rachel nips at her skin and she moans. "Why am I still talking?"

"I think I'm making you nervous," Rachel says, hands tugging at Quinn's t-shirt before pulling it over the blonde's head.

"You're making me a lot of things," Quinn replies, hips wriggling a little as Rachel pushes down her jeans. "Nervous is near the top of the list."

"Tell me what's number one on the list," Rachel says, genuinely interested to know how she's affecting the other girl. Quinn blushes furiously and mumbles a response that Rachel doesn't stand a chance of hearing. "Pardon me?"

"Really, really wet."

Rachel's gaze instantly drops and she subconsciously licks her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry. She tries to think of a response to Quinn's admission but her brain appears to have exploded. She finally releases a breath she's been holding for about twenty seconds.

"Oh."

Quinn chuckles in spite of her nerves and walks past the brunette, heading for the bed. She settles on the edge and waits for Rachel to regain her motor skills. She tilts her head to the side and watches the muscles in Rachel's shoulders twitch.

"Rachel?" Quinn calls after a minute, fearing that she's completely broken the other girl.

Rachel whirls around and advances towards Quinn who swallows hard at the look on Rachel's face. When she gestures for the blonde to move up onto the bed fully, Quinn does so in a heartbeat, nestling back against the pillows. Silently Rachel kneels on the bed before crawling up to meet Quinn in a heated kiss. The rest of the clothing covering their bodies is thrown haphazardly to the ground and their bodies entwine, fitting as perfectly as they had the first time.

"I missed this," Quinn breathes, fingertips edging down Rachel's sides.

"It's only been two weeks," Rachel grins against Quinn's lips, teeth tugging gently on her bottom one until the blonde moans.

"I think you're underestimating how much I like you," Quinn says, enjoying the shy way that Rachel blushes and tries to duck her head. "I like you, Rachel."

"I like you too."

"I'm glad we're clear on that," Quinn chuckles before reaching up brush the bangs out of Rachel's eyes. "You look a little nervous."

"What if I'm not good at this?" Rachel asks, shifting her thigh slightly between Quinn's legs. The blonde shakes her head, eyes fluttering shut.

"I hear practice makes perfect," Quinn murmurs, lips connecting with Rachel's as the brunette's hips start to grind down against her own.

**xxxxx**

The sound that escapes Quinn's lips as she arches back is barely human. Every nerve in her body is thrumming and every time Rachel touches her, she feels like she's going to tumble over the edge. Her right hand finds purchase in Rachel's sheets, fingers curling, knuckles whitening. Through half-lidded eyes, she glances down, hypnotised by the mess of brown hair between her thighs.

_Oh god._

_Oh god. Oh god. Oh god._

Quinn wrenches her gaze towards the ceiling as Rachel's fingers replace her tongue and the brunette thrusts deep and hard. And waits. Quinn feels herself clench erratically, glancing down again. Rachel is staring back, head tilted to the side.

"Tease," Quinn pants, trying desperately to cant upwards off the bed.

A smile crosses Rachel's lips and she draws her fingers out, watching Quinn bite her bottom lip. She's revelling in the power she holds over the blonde, the look of ecstasy that crashes onto Quinn's face when Rachel curls her fingers inside and the conflicting look of annoyance when Rachel dances her towards the edge but doesn't give her the satisfaction she's craving.

"Enough," Quinn moans, pulling Rachel back up to kiss her. "Enough."

Rachel nods, circling Quinn's clit with the tips of her fingers. Quinn grinds upwards, keeping perfect rhythm with the brunette until Rachel whispers in the blonde's ear.

"I want you to come for me."

With Rachel's name on her lips, Quinn jerks and moans and shakes apart, feeling every part of her body tense and release and fall back limply onto the bed. She takes a shaky breath before running her hand over her forehead.

"Wow."

"Yes."

Quinn tries to find another word, something more eloquent to describe how elated she feels but can't. She gives up and closes her eyes, a smile slipping across her face.

"Wow."

"We covered that," Rachel groans, moving onto her side to curl up against Quinn, who instantly turns to press a kiss to the shorter girl's forehead.

"Wow."

**xxxxx**

Quinn eventually drags Rachel down to the kitchen to 'make' dinner. Thirty minutes later, they sit at the dining table with cartons of Thai food.

"What happens next?" Rachel asks, swirling her remaining noodles around the bottom of the carton.

"Well, we could watch the rest of the movie," Quinn jokes, watching Rachel roll her eyes. "We'll figure it out." Rachel makes a face, now stabbing at her noodles. "What have the noodles done to upset you?"

"Nothing," Rachel says. "I just have this somewhat irrational fear that you saying yes to all of this has been an elaborate hoax and at any moment you're going to dump me, go to Finn's, tell him I cast some sort of spell over you and then you two will run off into an incredibly beige-coloured sunset for a life of monotony in Lima, Ohio."

Quinn blinks a few times and swallows a mouthful of food before responding.

"That's a highly detailed, though completely irrational, fear," she says, smirking slightly. "I'm not going anywhere. Shouldn't I be more worried about you doing the same thing to me?"

"It was just a thought," Rachel blushes.

Quinn considers this for a few moments before putting down her chopsticks and reaching for Rachel's hand.

"An irrational thought. Anyway," Quinn says, taking a quick breath to steady the nerves that have suddenly started coursing through her body again. "In order for me to 'dump you', we'd have to be dating first."

"That's true," Rachel says, a smile working its way across her lips.

"I wrote out a plan, a list of things I was going to do to sweep you off your feet," Quinn says, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans. Moments before she'd left her house earlier that day, she'd been scoring out a few of her ideas after deeming them completely ridiculous (who knew hot air balloon rides were so expensive?) and then stuffed the list into her pocket. "I guess I was so nervous about meeting your dads, I didn't even think to put it back in my bedside cabinet."

"'Take her to see one of her favourite movies.'" Rachel reads out one of the crossed out items, before pushing the list back towards Quinn. "Don't show me the rest."

"It's corny, right?" Quinn says, making a face before folding it up and shoving it back into her pocket. "I mean, I don't need a list…" She can feel herself beginning to stammer.

"No," Rachel says, shaking her head furiously. "I want to be surprised."

"Surprised?" Quinn asks.

"When you get around to doing everything else on that list," Rachel clarifies before leaning over to press a kiss to Quinn's cheek. She gathers up the empty cartons and leaves Quinn at the dining table, wondering where on earth she'll find a barbershop quartet that can sing medleys of Broadway classics.

_Screwed._


End file.
